The New Tris
by myownlittleinfinity
Summary: What I thought SHOULD have happened in "Insurgent" by Veronica Roth on page 261. Tris is always caving to Tobias, (I mean who wouldn't!), but she needs a little bit more of a backbone. She needs to fight back. This is what Tris, in my opinion, should've told Tobias.


A/N: I OWN NOTHING. This is all Veronica Roth's beautiful story. This is my second fanfic. I think Tris needs to stand up a little bit more to Tobias in "Insurgent" because no one seems to realize she has PTSD! (Which drives me crazy throughout the whole book). No one seems to understand that she needs therapy. So Tris needs to stand up for herself. I also felt that in "Insurgent" Tobias and Tris were distracting for each other, they needed to focus on the war and how to bring down the Erudite, not their relationship. I thought they should've taken a break and gotten back together after the war. (I promise I am a hardcore Fourtris fan!) I tried to keep some of Tris's mentality in here, about how she feels about her "new" self. I hope you like it :)

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_He touches his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. "I believe you're still in there," he says against my mouth. "Come back."_

Something snaps within me, "Tris the Divergent is dead. She died the moment she pulled the trigger." I look at him with cold, unfeeling eyes and walk away down the Candor hallway.

I don't know why I said it, but it's true. I will _never_ be the same again. I murdered Will, I watched my mother and father die. How could he _ever_ think I could be the same person?

Because I am not, I'm not.

I hear his voice calling me, and my whole being wishes to turn around and get rid of all the secrets we harbor, and pretend none of it exists. But it does. Him not telling me about Evelyn, and him not letting me in on his plan to whip Marcus, and those are just _his_ secrets. Those are too many. And what of mine?

I didn't trust him to love me after what I did to Will, to be honest I still don't. No one can. Christina certainly doesn't. And why would she?

Sad and awful thoughts like these plague my mind, but strangely there is no urge to cry, only a numbness that I wish I could've had during initiation. It would've made the separation from my family easier.

I hear footsteps pounding against the black and white Candor tile, and I know it must be him. But when he finally catches up to me, I can't imagine what he will say. He will not say that it will all be all right- it won't be. He won't try to get things back to how they used to be, because that is impossible. I meant what I said. Tris the Divergent is dead. In her place is a new Tris. And if I am being truthful, I like her better. She doesn't break so easily, she isn't so easy to trust as I once was in the beginning.

It is easier for me to let no one in. It hurts less.

"Tris! Wait!" His gravelly voice echoes off the walls, and it's constant repetition makes my head spin round. I feel my body crash to the linoleum floor- my figure no longer running off the adrenaline.

He tries to help me up, but the moment I feel the warmth of his hands on my bare arms, bile starts to collect in my throat. He doesn't want me as I am. He _rejected_ me only a minute ago. I bat his hands away, and gruffly say, "I'm fine, I'm fine."

I stand up, still a little wobbly, but I move forward nonetheless.

"We need to talk, you can't just _say_ something like that and not talk to me!" First concern seeps through his voice, and then anger. Good. It will be easier to be mad at him if he is angry.

I spin on my heels, "I don't think there is anything left to say, Tobias." I like the hard exterior I give off, even though he softens me. I hope the iciness I give him in this moments makes him feel how I just did. Totally and utterly alone. Completely isolated.

"You have a _choice_ Tris. Let me in! I can help you!" Worry lines between his sweet straight eyebrows appear. He puts his rough palms on my upper arms, shaking me a little.

I know he believes the words he says, I can see the truth of them in his dark blue eyes. But he can't help me. I can't be fixed, not anymore. Maybe if I hadn't avenged my mother, maybe if I hadn't even chosen Dauntless, maybe _then_ I could be fixed.

"I'm not one of your computers, _Four_. I can't be fixed. You _can't_ help me. Either love me the way I am now, or not at all."

He releases his hold on me, and the previously covered arms now prickle with the new cold air. I shiver.

"What are you saying, Tris?" His eyes express apprehension, his voice careful. I start to feel new guilt being piled onto the old. It's times like this when sometimes I see the Old Tris. Like an old friend I bumped into on the streets. _I _am the one who is hurting him. _I _am the reason he stayed in Dauntless. My impact on his life is slowly ruining him.

I look away, now tears really _are_ starting to sting behind my eyes. "I think we should stop seeing each other," after gauging his reaction, I quickly add, "At least until after all this is over. This is a time of war. We don't need our emotions getting in the way."

Tobias is no longer expressive. He is rigid. His back is perfectly straight with his arms glued to his side. A cold mask has covered his pools of midnight, and his mouth is drawn in a narrow line.

"If that's what you want, Tris." His tone is oddly formal.

It's not what I want. What I want is for him to love the new me, for him to not want to fix me. I'm fine this way. I'm _better_. I want to press the space between us until there is nothing less. I want him to distract me from everything, even myself. I want to lie to him, and tell him I am okay. I want him to hold me.

"That's what I want."

I walk away and don't look back. I don't want to see him frozen there, and I don't want him to see the tears pouring from my eyes.


End file.
